Therefore
it is no more than a reasonable peace-offering to
deny myself of it. * * * "And now, Lord,
what wait I for?" Enable me to say, "My hope is
in thee." It seems as if the path would be a narrow
one; but, oh, "make thy way straight before my
face;" and, having enabled me, I trust, to _give some_
things to "the moles and to the bats," leave me not
till I have learned "to count _all_ things but loss, for
the excellency of Christ Jesus my Lord."
The following is the unfinished piece just alluded to:--
TO HER FATHER IN AMERICA.
And thus it was, as drew the moments nearer
That stamp'd their record deep oil every heart;
As day by day thy presence grew yet dearer,
By how much sooner thou shouldst hence depart.
Love wept indeed, though she might seem a sleeper,
Long ere descending tears the signs betray'd;
And the heart's fountain was but so much deeper,
The longer was its overflow delay'd.
The page my unapt heart has learn'd so newly
In the dark lessons which afflictions teach--
Oh, it were vain to try to utter truly
In the cold language of unapter speech.
That hearts when thus their very depths are burning
Alone should know their bitterness, is well;
But, oh, my heart more joys than aches in learning
Another lesson, would that words could tell.
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